The Conqueror
by Tragic Melpomene
Summary: Raised in an orphanage, Harry is adopted and taught magic that will eventually lead him to rule. " You will overpower a Lord, claim his throne and rule his people. You will be unstoppable." LV/HP
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Raised in an orphanage, Harry is adopted and taught to become a powerful Lord of Magic. Through rituals, lessons, balls and battles he grows stronger each day. However, he did not expect that being sent to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament would change his life completely. LV/HP WiP

_A/N: Sorry about the bad summary. Hopefully I can revise it as the story progresses. I just wanted to say that _Unraveling Fate_ is on a temporary Hiatus. I am hoping to get back into it when I am suffering a brain fart with this story. To all of you who are upset by this please don't bash this fiction. You can send me messages or comment in the reviews for that story._

_This is my first slash fiction and I would appreciate that for all of you who don't find that appealing please just leave the story now. Flames crush any writer and I would prefer that mine are for something more than two guys getting it on._

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine :(

**Chapter 1: The Beginning**

Thunder clashed, shaking the small three story orphanage that was on the outskirts of London. The rain slipped through the cracks of the old building and the chill of the wind was seeping into the bones of the children sleeping under ratty and thin blankets that barely covered the younger wards' toes.

Little Hadrian, a boy no older than seven, gazed out of the window above his thin mattress. The drops of the rain leaving a trail of tears on the plane as another bolt of lightning lit up the grounds. A figure in a black cloak followed a narrow path up to the orphanage doors, each strike of lightning brought the stranger closer and closer to the home of the unfortunate and the damned.

At last a knock on the thin oak door could be heard softly echoing through the halls of the boys and girls that slept in the cold and dampness.

Hadrian slipped from his bed, toes curling from the cold cement that was his floor, and swiftly snuck from his room and down the too tall steps of the stairs. He peaked around the corner and listen softly to the Matron and the mysterious stranger he seemed so drawn to.

They sat at a table sipping tea and brandy (at least Madam Thanny was). The cloaked figure sat facing the chubby wrinkled Matron.

"Madam this is most unusual! The hour is late and all the children are asleep. Why don't I set you up in one of our extra rooms and then you can see the children in the morning?"

A voice, soft and sweet, spoke, "That won't be necessary Madam. I can find what I am looking for without your aid." A woman, she spoke with a slight French accent. The hood of the cloak fell to her shoulders revealing long thick silver hair. "And not all of your children are asleep. The one that I am searching for is in fact on the stairs listening to us now."

Emerald eyes widening Harry turned and started to run up the stairs when a hand clamped onto the back of his neck turning him around quickly. The young boy gasped as he gazed into the face of a young woman who had somehow appeared right behind him. She looked no older then sixteen. She was the most beautiful person that he had ever seen. Her eyes were the color of mother of pearl, big and bright and her lips were plump and pink. She was small and pale yet her grip was strong as she grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to stare into hers.

As he gawked at the woman she, in turn, critically scanned the child in front of her. He was far too small for his age and extremely skinny. His hair was a thick, untamed mass of ebony curls and his eyes were a glittering green. She would never have believed that he was nearly eight if not for the profile that she had of him. Hadrian Doe, seven, preferred name Harry, found at the Hollow Road Orphanage on January 1st 1982, suspected age of arrival: one, black hair and green eyes.

"Hello Hadrian," she said. "I have come to take you away from here. Would you like to come with me?"

The young boy blinked at her, his eyes guarded and confused. "Why?" he asked simply. He stared past her at Madam Thanny who seemed to be frozen, the glass of brandy held up to her lips. She did not blink or seem to even notice him gazing at her. He turned back to the woman in front of him.

She twisted her lips into what would be considered a smile. "You are a very powerful little boy, Hadrian. I want to raise you into an even more powerful man."

"But I am just Harry."

The silver haired woman raised her hand to his cheek; her red nails trailing from his temple to his jaw. "For now, maybe. But when I am done, you shall be the most powerful wizard of all eternity."

Harry jerked back, but her grip on his jaw and arm held him in her grasp. He shook his head in denial. "Magic doesn't exist. It is blasphemous."

Crystal eyes bore into the emerald ones. "What is blasphemous, little Hadrian, is that a wizard child knows nothing of his heritage, his culture, his family."

"You knew my parents?" he asked in wonder.

"I could guess who they are now that I have seen you; yet, they do not matter. I will be your mother, your father, your sister and your brother. I will be everything you ever need."

"I don't believe you," Harry spoke softly.

She merely raised a thin white eyebrow and flung out her arm, a thin pale wand appearing from her sleeve into her hand. Turning to face the Matron she twirled her wand in an arc over her body before make a slashing motion.

Quite suddenly a red line appeared beneath the chin of Madam Thanny. As blood began to seep slowly from the wound to drop with a patter on the grey floor she did not make a sound, still frozen with her glass raised to her lips.

The pale woman turned back to Harry's wide, confused eyes. She smiled crookedly and stood tall from her kneeling position. "She harmed you, no? That bruise on your cheek was from her hand, was it not? She called you le diable, the devil."

His breath came out in short little gasps as his lips quivered. The Matron, at last, dropped her glass and slumped forward onto the kitchen table, staining the wood red. "How do you know?"

"I am a witch, mon bébé. I know many things; things that I can teach you. Just know this, little Hadrian. Know that I shall never let another person harm you. This I promise. Now will you come with me? I have much to teach you for you have much to learn."

Hadrian gazed up at the hand she held out to him. It was small and looked as if she had never had a hard day of labor in her life, much unlike the calloused hands of the seven year old. He reached toward her; yet, before he grasped her hand he asked softly, "Who are you?"

She leaned forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her before lifting him into her arms. "My name is Circe Lebeau, but you, my love, may call me Mother."

And for the first time that Harry could ever remember he felt like someone could care about him. So he curled his arms around Circe's thin long neck, his nose pressed into her soft hair and smiled.

* * *

Three years later.

Harry stood gazing out at the blue sea that surrounded the villa on the beach in Fiji he and Circe had called home for the past year. After she had taken him from the old grey building that he had been his jail for six years they had travelled from place to place, learning magic, cultures and languages.

Walking through the giant arches out onto the patio that led to the white sand and warm water, Harry closed his eyes as a rush of salty air tickled his nose. Wearing a breezy light blue robe his bare feet peaked out from the thin material. He had learned what being a wizard meant and learned why Circe wanted him so badly.

A memory flashed past his eyes. They had traveled to a castle in the mountains of Alpamayo in Peru when Harry had first joined with the woman he now considered his mother. A week after their arrival they sat in an elegant hall, sipping warm tea and discussing his future.

Circe smiled as Harry gazed around the magnificent castle; at the imposing pillars and stained glass windows in wonder. "Hadrian, my child, I think it is time I explained why I claimed you."

He turned back to her.

"You are here, my love, because you have the power to become a Lord; whether it is the Light or Dark Lord I do not care; however, you will be the most powerful of them all."

Harry gulped audibly. "What if you are wrong?" he almost whispered, looking down at the steaming cup in his hands.

She clucked her tongue. "Always look into the eyes of the person you are conversing with. It is a sign of weakness if you refuse to look. Now the reason I know you will be the most powerful Lord is because I will train you."

His eyes immediately stared into hers. "I just don't understand."

"My beautiful one, every Lord in the past thousand years has struggled learning their powers and testing their influence. They are forced to struggle in order to thrive and I believe that if they could have learned from someone and trusted in their teacher to guide them they could have been unstoppable. You must earn your place in history. Like so many Lords and Ladies before you, you will overpower a Lord, claim his throne and rule his people."

He blushed, but did not look away from her eyes, bright with her power. "So you saved me in order to teach me."

She nodded in approval. "Yes, ma ine jeune, I shall teach you how to be a Lord. You will be unstoppable because no other Lord will have your teachings." He squinted and blinked several times, the urge to rub his strained eyes apparent.

Setting her glass on the intricate table cloth of woven gold and silk, she reached for him, brushing his fringe to reveal his eyes better. "Do you need glasses, my love?" Circe asked gently.

Harry looked away, only to feel a sharp tap on his cheek. His eyes immediately fastened to hers. "Eye contact, Hadrian, do not forget. Now do you need glasses?"

He nodded, "Yes."

She smiled. "Then the first bout of magic you shall learn will be a ritual to gain perfect eye sight. For now I shall lead you through the process, but as you learn more we will perform more rituals to unlock your powers and make you stronger and you will perform them yourself."

Harry looked terrified, but he nodded slowly.

Clasping her hands together, red nails clinked gently. "Excellent! Now we must find a proper sacrifice; however, that shall wait till tomorrow. You need your rest, my little one."

Standing with a slight stumble that caused Circe to wince at the un-gracefulness of her charge, Harry turned to rush from the room only to stop before reaching the door. "Circe?" he asked as he turned back to face her.

She was staring past him, her eyes unseeing. After a moment she turned to face her new ward, "Yes, ma belle? And please call me Mother."

"Would I have become a Lord if I stayed at the orphanage, Mother?"

She smiled, her teeth sharp and sparkling. "Oh yes, my dear one. I dare believe that you would have been one of the powerful Lords that rise once every generation."

Harry hugged his stomach, but stood straight and tall, like she had coached him the first night they had arrived. "Then why do you want to teach me? I would have learned anyway."

"Do you wish to go back? To be surrounded by all those who will hinder you?" she asked sharply.

He shook his head quickly. "No! I want to stay with you. I just also want to know."

Circe brushed a thick strand of silver hair from her face. "The current Lords of Britain and the Lord in China all suffered alone. They either lost their parents or they were abandoned. To be forced to grow up and never truly understand what it means to be a Lord till they were old and set in their ways. They did not change the world they rule. You shall. You will enter this world and you will thrive and change it and then tear it apart and rebuild it again."

Harry nodded once more. "Will you teach me about the other Lords? You said I must fight them for my place. Will you help me?"

She smiled the most serene smile that he had ever seen in the short time that they had known each other. "Of course, my Hadrian. I will help you on your way to greatness. I will teach you and guide you, but it will be you alone who will make your own place in history. You will earn your right to rule. But I will be there always, at your side and from afar. In the end I shall be yours as much as you are mine.

"But do not think that this will be easy. You will suffer and hate me, but you will also love me and cherish me. You will feel pain and cause pain. You will give life and you will end it."

Eyes wide, Harry stared unblinking as Circe stood with a grace that made it appear as if she glided across the floor. Her robe trailed behind her as she finally reached him. Smoothing his midnight curls, she tilted his head back and gazed down into his emerald eyes. "Does that scare you? That you will have to kill?"

Tears started to fill his eyes, but they did not fall. "Yes," he whispered.

She smirked. "Good. It is only those who have no passion, no strive to thrive and prosper, that do not fear tearing their soul."

Turning the young boy away from her and pushing him gently toward the hall to his room, her hand untangling from his locks, she grinned. "Do not fear, mon petit. You shall not kill yet. I will be the one who extinguishes the life from your sacrifice tomorrow. It will be quite some time before I let you end another's existence. Now rest. We will find you a suitable pair of eyes tomorrow."

Sure enough the next morning a young girl and a tall man arrived. Harry was explained that the man was a vampire and was able to see better in the dark than any other creature on earth. The girl had perfect sight and once the vampire drained her of blood his would be used in the ritual to grant Harry with the perfect sight.

That night it took him ages to sleep. He kept telling himself it was because his room was glowing an odd green in the dark; yet in his heart he knew it was from watching his new mother paint the mixed blood of the vampire and his victim into runes on the ground and his body.

Suddenly Harry was thrown out of his memories as he felt a wand touch the base of his neck. Stiffening all over he turned slowly as Circe re-sheathed her wand. "You would have been dead, my love, if I was an assassin."

He nodded. "I am sorry, Mother. I was lost in my thoughts."

She smiled, "Now in French."

"Je suis désolé, maman. J'étais perdu dans mes pensées."

"Spanish."

"Lo siento, mamá. Yo estaba perdido en mis pensamientos."

"Czech."

"Je mi líto, matko. Byl jsem ztracen ve svých myšlenkách."

"Hungarian."

"Mi a helyzet az arab, vagy olasz?" He asked if she would prefer Arabic or Italian as well. Harry had learned nearly thirty languages through rituals, lessons and books since he came to live with her.

Circe shook her head. She looked the exact same as she did the night she had come to take him away from his orphanage. Harry had changed greatly. His eyes were clearer with specks of blue and red that was a result of the ritual they had performed nearly three years previously. His hair barely brushed his shoulders and he had gained some muscles in his thin arms and legs.

"Join me for breakfast," she demanded and led him out of the giant room that had been his since they had arrived. Walking through the bright halls with its marble floors they finally reached a room with a long thin dining table that had been ladled with foods. Throughout his time with Circe he had never seen a servant or a house-elf. Everything was always prepared out of his sight and cleaned up once he was gone.

Sitting in the open dining hall the sea breeze blew the thin gold shear curtains revealing the stunning beach and sea that surrounded their villa. Exotic flowers trailed up the steps into the dining hall, growing up the walls and twisting around the pillars throughout the room.

Taking small delicate bites of the soft fish that was placed before him Harry watched as his mother sipped on a glass of champagne. "Is it not early, Mother? To be drinking that is."

She merely took another small sip and set the glass down gently before lifting her fork. "Maybe here it is, but it is nearly evening in South Africa."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "Are we leaving for South Africa, Mother?"

Circe nodded, dabbing her lips gently with her thick white napkin. "To the Amazon, my child. We are now going to be focusing on the animals that live there and the tribal magic of some of the wizarding societies that still thrive."

"I assumed we would be here for some more time. We were in Peru for nearly two years before leaving. I thought we had all the time in the world."

She smiled. "Do you like Fiji, my darling?"

"It is beautiful, Mother. You cannot deny that."

Circe bit into a thick red strawberry, chewing slowly before answering, "Of course it is beautiful. Everywhere we shall live will be beautiful. And you may come back once you rule and claim this island as your own; yet, it is time to move on."

Harry agreed, "I understand. It just seems a bit rushed. Is there any reason for our hasty departure?"

"In a year several schools will be sending you invitations to attend their institutes. I want to finish preparing you before I let you roam free."

Harry twirled his knife into the soft butter before spreading it across the warm bread that appeared on his plate. "I thought we were never to be parted through my training years. Why will I need to attend a school when I shall learn much more from you?"

"You need to learn to interact with others. While in the Amazon we shall make some trips to Chile to attend some wizarding events there. Once you have mastered the world of the aristocrats you will be sent to a school to meet others your age who will eventually become your first followers."

Circe stood suddenly, her silver gown sweeping around her and her jewels sparkling in the sunlight. Harry stood, much more gracefully then when he had first came to live with his mother, holding out his hand to meet hers and grazing his lips across her knuckles. She smiled as he straightened. "Today is your tenth birthday, my child. Once we arrive I shall have a feast prepared for our celebration. Let us pack now. We have one last lesson before we leave Fiji."

Nodding in agreement, Harry swiftly strode to his room. Waving his wand, a gift from Circe for his eighth birthday, he spoke the incantations to pack his clothes and valuables before admiring the room. It was much more open and warm than his room in the mountains of Peru and it would be hard to leave, but he knew that Circe was always looking out for him. This trip was needed if he was to rule.

It had taken nearly a year for Harry to come to the realization that he would actually rule someday. When Circe had begun to talk of it their first week together he had never truly believed that he was going to ever be as powerful as she claimed. His doubts had held him back and then one day they had been studying by the fire when he had used his wand to make the flames dance across the floor, forming shapes and scenes that took his breath away.

Circe had beamed and they had celebrated with games and songs the rest of the night, flames dancing around their feet. She had finally tucked him into bed with the promise that if he loved magic as much as it seemed to love him then he would be unstoppable. And from that day on he tried harder to show his mother and his magic how much he took the lessons to heart and how much their love meant to him.

Once he had finished packing and saying goodbye to the island he entered the ballroom that Circe used for all their rituals and lessons.

She was standing in the center of a large pentagram that took up nearly half the of the dance floor. Salt that had been purged from the sea formed the lines and candles were placed throughout the room. Turning toward her son Circe nodded to the boy that was slowly becoming a man before her. In a few years' time he would be ready to face the world without her whispering in his ear. Hugging him gently she grasped his shoulders in her unnaturally strong grip.

"You will be preforming this ritual without my aid, my beautiful one. Today you will learn the language of the sea. Now come meet your sacrifice."

It was a tradition. They would always meet the person or creature that was to sacrifice their life for whatever ritual they would perform. Most did not care to meet the people that would end their lives, but some had come willingly, tired of their existence and seeking peace.

This time it was a mermaid that was several hundred years old. She was huge and wrinkled, serene at the prospect of death. According to Circe, she was a willing sacrifice that had come to the shore to watch Hadrian and his mother duel and had fallen in love with the dense thick magic of the young student.

"Come, ma cherie. Light the candles."

Holding up the tip of his wand to his lips, Harry cupped his hand around it and began to blow. After a few puffs the end of his wand came aflame. He knelt down before the magnificent creature before him and lit the candle that was next to her head. All the candles throughout the room burst into flames with a sharp spark.

Extinguishing the flame at the end of his wand, Harry lift the ritual knifes and began to chant to the god of the sea, promising the blood of the mermaid before him as a tribute to the god, in hopes that he could learn the language of the Mermish.

Once the life blood was spilt and the runes painted on his body, Harry stood in the center of the pentagram. He waved his wand engulfing the mermaid in thick fire. Chanting louder he lifted his arms above his head and felt waves of magic pierce his body. When the ritual was finished Harry remained in the center of the pentagram. His magic hummed and his body shook. At last he rose and stumbled into his mother's arms.

"You were a sight, my child. I could not have been more proud. Rest your eyes now, me amour. When you wake we shall be in South America, in a plantation house I was able to obtain. Sleep, my Hadrian, and dream of the sea.

* * *

So for the next year they traveled throughout the Amazon, sometimes staying in tents high in the trees. Other times they slept in a huge plantation house deep in the forest. They would travel to Chile and Ecuador, visiting tribes and magical communities. Once they even went to America, to attend a ball for the upcoming election. It was all very surreal for Harry, who had spent three years alone with only Circe for company, to be thrown into events, balls and parties, surrounded by hundreds of witches and wizards.

A week before Harry's eleventh birthday, Circe sat with him in his room. She was watching him work out a magical puzzle, similar to that of a rubix cube. "My darling, your birthday is in one week."

Harry paused, turning to look at his mother and setting the cube down on the table next to his bed. "I know," he spoke clearly.

"I am sure you do. Before we decide which school you shall attend I have much to tell you."

"What is it, Mother?" he asked.

She rose from the bed to look out one of the windows. The moon was crescent and the stars were bright. "I have considered which schools I am willing to send you to. Two of them teach primarily Light magics and one teaches mostly Dark. Two of those schools will send you an invitation under the name Hadrian Labeau. One will send it under your birth name."

Harry straightened instantly. He had always questioned her about where he had come from and Circe had always refused to explain, only telling him that it did not matter because she was his parents, his family.

He dared not speak in case she would not continue. Sighing, Circe turned to face him. "Your parents supported the Light Lord. Under his command they placed you in hiding with your mother's sister. You had already been so powerful when your mother gave birth to you. Your first scream broke every window on that hospital floor. They feared for your life and they feared your power. So they sent you away, to grow ignorant of your powers till your eleventh birthday when they would claim you.

"Most children that are raised in a non-magical community suffer from blocks their magic builds in order to survive. It unconsciously is aware that you will be targeted and in danger if you let your magic run free while being cared for by Muggles. It is the more humane way of curbing someone's magical ability. It is something that Light Lords have done in the past to hinder those who could rival them."

"How would the Dark Lords?" Harry interrupted.

Circe brushed his cheek gently. "They would kill them."

Gulping nervously Harry nodded for her to continue. "You had caught the Dark Lord's interest regardless and yet he did not hunt for you. It was always my belief that he wished you to join his side once you realized the crimes committed against you.

"It did not take me long to figure out who you were, my child. You look very much like your father and after a few quick spells I was able to determine that you were indeed the child of James Potter and his wife Lily Potter."

Harry closed his eyes. Harry Potter. Hadrian Potter. At last he knew his birth name. For most of his life he had believed it to be Harry Doe and then he had grown into Hadrian Labeau. It was odd now to know the truth.

Opening his eyes, he gazed up at Circe, who still had a hand pressed to his cheek. "What now, Mother?" he asked.

Her lips twisted into a half smirk half grin. "Regardless of your choice, I am far too possessive of you, my dear one. You will remain my son always. Though if I must share you then so be it."

Moving out of her grip he walked toward the fire place in the center of his room. Its flames rose higher as he stepped closer. "I don't think I could ever be parted from you, Mother. I am just as possessive of you as you are of me."

Turning to face her, his hands clasped behind his back, she grinned. "Then attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I will be able to visit regularly and plus I have always preferred you speaking French."

* * *

A week later Harry Labeau accepted the invitation to Beauxbatons and he burned the letter to Hogwarts. Inside the old castle a distraught Headmaster watched as Hadrian Potter's name vanished from the enrollment book. James and Lily were not going to be happy.

Circe and Harry arrived at the stunningly beautiful palace a week before classes started and were led to a private set of rooms. The Headmistress allowed Circe to remain on the grounds throughout the time Harry spent attending her institution and although it had been something unheard of for a parent to travel with their child to the school no one seemed to question it.

And for the next three years Harry attended classes with several students his own age, despite the fact that he was at a far different skill level. Circe still taught him lessons regularly and was never too far if he ever needed her.

After his arrival to Beauxbatons several letters started arriving for Circe. She would always read them with a small smirk on her lips before throwing them into the fire in her chambers.

"Why do you always burn the letters, Mother?" Harry asked one evening after a particularly long lesson.

Shutting the book that she had been reading, Circe calmly answered him, "Most are from some influential wizard and witches that are seeking my company. It has been quite some time since I have been in Europe."

"You don't want to see them?"

Tilting her head to the side, her long straight hair cascaded down her back. "No, mon petit, I do not want to be in their company, at least until we are both ready to be there. They will no doubt wish to meet you."

Life became much of a routine after that. Each morning Harry attended classes with the other students though he had ended up skipping a grade ahead between second and third year. After his lessons he would wander to a tower on the north side of the palace that overlooked the majestic gardens and have lessons with his mother.

It was not till Beauxbatons was invited to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament that things started to change.

* * *

A/N: As some of you read earlier I am putting _Unraveling Fate_ on a short Hiatus. I just don't feel the desire to write it as much I did anymore. And I know several of you will be upset, especially since I took several of the chapters down. Maybe I will put them back up for you, though some of them are quite dreadful. Oh well, let me know what you prefer!

This is a Voldemort/Harry slash fiction and for anyone that offends, well, you can read something else. I want to try my hand at this and I hope most of the people that read it enjoy it.

Also let me know if there are too many pet names throughout the chapter. I just envision Circe being the almost fake, doesn't really know how to show affection type. If the rituals bug you, well, I am trying to show that they are willing to do anything (even the most illegal magics) to succeed. More will be explained throughout the fiction.

Lastly, I am sure some of you are confused and I ask that you please be patient. Several things will be explained in the next few chapters, I just wanted this chapter to focus on showing the history between Harry and Circe and why he is going to act the way that he will throughout the fiction. Voldemort will be in the next chapter though it will be some time before anything truly smutty or fluffy happens.

P.S. I have not decided if Harry is to become a Light Lord or a Dark Lord. Let me know if you have a preference!

Once again, THANK YOU FOR READING :) and please review!


	2. Chapter 2

"_I'm definitely in love with the name Hadrian. I think it fits perfectly with the personality of your character, sweet, but with character. It almost sounds glorious, and I like it. More specifically, I enjoyed this first chapter. He tells Harry's childhood, the transition from innocence and awkwardness, a powerful and talented warrior. And I'm also fascinated to Hadrian 'relationship, and Circe. Unconsciously, their words are tinged with ambiguity, but without really being so maternal affection they have, is endearing. However, I was surprised that Harry decides to Beauxbatons. I'd rather be thought of another school like Durmstrang, or an academy drawn from your invention. But, being an original choice, I am enchanted. Now, I look forward to growing the second chapter, the Hadrian's arrival at Hogwarts, risk to shake the building." Riddikuluss_

Summary: Raised in an orphanage, Harry is adopted and taught to become a powerful Lord of Magic. Through rituals, lessons, balls and battles he grows stronger each day. However, he did not expect that being sent to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament would change his life completely. LV/HP

A/N: Wow! I feel blessed that everyone enjoyed the first chapter and look forward to more. I enjoyed reading everyone's reviews and personal messages and used some of them for inspiration for this chapter. Thank you so much! I have decided that this story will be about 50 chapters long and an AU of The Goblet of Fire. I don't know yet if I am going to make this a series though I have given it the thought. We shall see where it goes! Also I shall be posting every Thursday expect for special occasions which I will giving forewarning in the previous chapter's A/N. Thank you so much once again for enjoying the first chapter and now on to the second!

**Chapter 2: England Bound**

_Life became much of a routine after that. Each morning Harry attended classes with the other students though he had ended up skipping a grade ahead between second and third year. After his lessons he would wander to a tower on the north side of the palace that overlooked the majestic gardens and have lessons with his mother. _

_It was not till Beauxbatons was invited to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament that things started to change._

The summer before Harry's fourth year, after two years attending Beauxbatons, Circe and he had been staying in a manor just outside Moscow, Russia. It was a beautiful manor, made of white marble and intricate paintings. In one of the foyers in the west wing Circe watched Harry receive lessons from one of the most talented piano players in the world. Despite the fact that the man was a Muggle he played beautifully.

There was a light tap behind her. Throwing up the window, Circe held her arm out for the stunning white owl to land on. Petting the feathers on the bird's breast she discreetly took the envelope from the owl's grasp. The bird hopped from her arm to a nearby perch and tucked its head beneath its wing to rest before carrying back the return letter that was expected.

Circe idly petted the soft parchment of the envelope, her eyes upward in thought.

Turning it over, the letter was addressed to her ward. Looking back at her son to make sure he was focusing on his work, she walked swiftly to her study. Circe sliced open the envelope with a silver letter opener, the rubies and sapphires that adorned it sparkled in the light of the candles.

_Dear Mr. Hadrian James Potter,_

_It has been 30 days since out last letter failed to reach you. Through the continued efforts of the Department of Child Services, Head Mugwump, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Albus Dumbledore has requested your transfer to his institute and return of your guardianship to your parents. Once more, we ask that you please send a letter to our department in order to retrieve you from your current location._

_Hoping to return you to your home soon._

_Madam Eilidh Kentington_

_Head of the Department of Child Services, British Ministry of Magic_

Folding the letter back up, she tapped her luscious bottom pink lip with a pointed red tipped finger. After a pregnant pause she held out the letter to the flame of the candle and watched it go up in flames until the fire started to blister her fingertips.

Snapping her fingers a house-elf, the one and only she employed, appeared before her. He was as dark as night, blending into the shadows and so silent that if she did not know he was there then it would have been doubtful that she would have noticed him.

The last of the letter burnt up, its ashes floating upward. Circe turned her head toward the elf and commanded, "There is an owl perched in the loft above the east foyer. Take it two hundred miles south from here and one hundred twenty five miles east."

The elf bowed. "Of course, Mistress. Once done, shall I obliviate it and send it on its way?"

Circe shook her head. Turning to leave the room, she looked back into the shadows, only seeing a pair of milky white golf-ball sized eyes following her exit. "No. Kill it. It is time that we let this Madam Kentington and Light Lord Dumbledore aware of how likely it is that Harry Potter will ever return to them with open arms."

And as she walked from the room, Circe could have sworn that she could hear the elf smiling.

* * *

There was never another letter after Circe sentenced the messenger to death. She had moved her and Harry closer to his school for the rest of the summer and then the following year they travelled to a modest palace in Lucerne, Switzerland.

They had been practicing Harry's skill with daggers when an owl arrived. The seal showed that the letter was sent from Beauxbatons and was most likely his school supply list for his fifth year. Circe smiled gently as he tore it open with obvious enthusiasm. Though he had not made many friends, Harry still loved his school and looked forward to it every year.

She watched his face go from excitement to confusion to just a hint of anxiety. Harry glanced up into her eyes and not for the first time Circe wished she had never made him perform the ritual to gain the shields of Occlumency.

Folding the letter, Harry spoke, "It appears that Beauxbatons has been invited to attend the TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts this upcoming year. All currently enrolled students from fourth year and above are required to intend."

He jumped as Circe slammed her hands down causing a candle stick to fall, lighting the table cloth on fire. Grabbing the water pitcher, Harry quickly put out the flame. "Mother!" he practically yelled.

Storming from the room, Circe's eyes were wide and frantic. She threw out her hand knocking over a seventeenth century vase and shattering it all over the floor. Following his mother, Harry grabbed her elbow and turned her to him. He had grown nearly as tall as her and was nearly twice as strong. His curly black hair was tamer and cut so short the curls seemed to multiple. He looked more and more like a man every day.

"What is going on?" he asked harshly.

Circe opened and closed her fists in frustration before turning away. She took a deep breath and then turned back to her ward. "The Light Lord in Britain is doing this to draw you to him, my love. He no doubt is trying to make amends with the public and your birth parents. He will try to overpower you and take you from me. He will try to hinder your power, make you weak like he did before. Dumbledore is going to force you to be a solider. His solider."

Harry shook his head. "How do you know? He has never done anything to try to reach me after my Hogwarts admittance letter. Why now?"

Circe looked away. "I don't know, my strong one. I just know that this will hurt you."

"Then what can we do? Should I leave Beauxbatons?"

"No, my love. They will look for students that leave the school. This is a hunt and we must be prepared."

Striding quickly to her study, her robe twisting and flaring up behind her, Harry followed a few steps behind. "What are you going to do?" he said.

Pulling out a piece of golden crusted parchment and a beautiful golden quill, she sat at her desk and began to write. Stopping in the middle of a sentence, Circe looked up. "I am sending a letter to some influential politics in England. I can see if I can find someone to aid us against the Light Lord."

"What about the Dark Lord?" Harry asked.

Circe waited to answer till she finished her letter. Finally she looked up after sealing it with an emblem that Harry had never seen before, it was of a majestic ship with crashing waves; however, before he could ask her about it, she answered. "I am seeking aid from some of his supporters, ma belle. He has very little influence in Hogwarts though he can make it clear, or we can make it clear, that you are more sympathetic to his ideals then Dumbledore's. Hopefully that will make the Headmaster leave you alone, mon amour."

And for a second, Harry wanted to ask how she knew where his sympathies laid, or why she believed that when he had no clue himself.

* * *

Across the English Channel, in a Manor on top of a hill Lucius Malfoy opened a letter. It was a short letter, but it caused him to pause and sit for several moments.

_Lord Malfoy,_

_Tradition requires that I send word before I attend your Midsummer Day Ball. I will arrive the evening of the event with my ward and do not fear, I shall come with an appropriate gift to celebrate the holiday as well as thank you for your hospitality. It has been quite some time since I have been in a Malfoy residence, much less England._

_And, please, make sure your Dark Lord is ready to see to me upon my arrival._

_Regards,_

_Circe Lebeau_

After re-reading the letter one last time, Lucius stood quickly and rushed into one of the hallways in the south wing. He stopped before a portrait of an elderly man with white blonde hair very similar to his own, though it was much shorter, only coming to the tips of his ears. He had the signature crystal blue eyes that passed from father to son for the last six generations of Malfoys. The man was still, like many of the old portraits, only his eyes followed his descendent.

"Great-Grandfather, I have received a letter from a woman named Circe."

At once the whole portrait seemed to come to life. The man leaned forward in the frame, his eyes twinkling. "What did she want from you?"

"She invited herself to the Midsummer Day Ball. She wants to see the Dark Lord."

His great-grandfather grinned. "Then you will let her see him. She could be a great ally."

"And what if the Dark Lord refuses to see her? He has not attended one of these events since he was promoted in the Ministry."

The portrait shook his head sharply. "You will figure out something. She would be a great ally, but a terrible enemy."

Lucius nodded and turned to leave; however, stopped in the doorway. "She has a ward that is coming with her."

Turning back to look at his great-grandfather, the portrait smiled ever wider. "Then you must have her as your ally. Things are in motion that will change the face of the world. Make sure your Lord knows that."

Leaving the room quickly, Lucius rushed to his wife's study. The only thing keeping him from running was the thought that Malfoys do not run.

The Seer was returning to England.

* * *

A month later Lucius stood beside Tom Riddle awaiting the announcement of the arrival of his guest and her ward. Glancing from the corner of his eye Lucius peaked at his Lord. He was not in his ministry persona, instead looking like the commander and Lord that he was.

Lord Voldemort was slender and tall, reaching well over six feet. His face was like a sculpture, all hard lines. He looked very much like the aristocrats that danced before him. His hair was midnight black with a very faint wave in it. It went down half his back, and was pulled back by a thin ruby ribbon that matched his garnet eyes.

The Dark Lord looked to be in his thirties, maybe late twenties; yet, it was well-known that the man was nearly seventy years old. The man was handsome and powerful. He was a very worthy Dark Lord in Lucius's eyes, despite his brutality.

Pulled from his thoughts, the Dark Lord spoke in his slightly high-pitched voice, "I will not wait much longer, Lucius."

Looking once more throughout the crowds of dancers, Lucius nodded. He could feel the burning pressure of the Dark Lord's magic as he steadily grew more angry. He watched as the guests seem to pause, for they were all declared Dark, and then continue dancing. It was not worth it to acknowledge the Dark Lord's anger in case he turned that anger onto them.

Suddenly another presence, strong; yet, nothing like the Dark Lord's, rose throughout the room. A woman appeared in the entry way with a cloaked figure next to her. She had long silver hair and looked to be just a few years older than his son; however, Lucius knew that this was the woman that had invited herself to his celebration.

Moving through the crowds, Lucius felt his Lord disappear into the shadows. He would bring the woman to him in a study away from nosy guests that looked for any edge to get closer to the man.

Bowing low, Lucius noticed his wife appear beside him and dip into a curtsey. Standing tall once he had kissed her gloved knuckles, Lucius spoke, "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Madam Labeau. May my halls keep you warm, my food keep you content and my hospitality keep you joyous."

The woman smiled, her teeth sparkling. "And may my presence be treasured and welcome once more."

"May I present my wife, Narcissa Malfoy," Lucius said once they had performed the traditional greetings of the Old Blood that he knew she had preferred.

The week before their arrival, Lucius had taken as much knowledge from his great-grandfather that he could. All that he learned was that she was old and powerful and should be treated with as much respect as possible. She would expect the Old Ways and demand tradition to be upheld throughout her visit. It was unnerving.

The woman's eyes bore into Narcissa's. The Malfoy Matron quickly curtseyed once more before taking a quick appraisal of the woman before her. She was dressed in a deep blue gown with silver cuffs and a plunging neckline. Around her neck was diamonds that glittered and shined as she moved. Her hair was loose and wild behind her shoulders, she looked like a child no older than sixteen.

"Pleasure Lord and Lady Malfoy," Circe spoke, her voice so sweet it made Narcissa squirm. "Your home is quite beautiful." She glanced around before catching the Malfoy Lord's eyes. "And I do so love beauty."

Narcissa turned to the cloaked figure next to her as Circe turned toward her ward. "And may I present my son, Hadrian Labeau."

The boy slowly lowered his hood and a house-elf came to take his cloak. At last he stared into the married couple's eyes. He had very short curly black hair, it gave him an almost Adonis look. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his eyes a sparkling green.

He was dressed in all black dress robes that brought out the paleness of his skin.

It was from this boy that the magical spike had appeared. The hair on her neck rose as she comprehended that the boy before her was Draco's age.

Narcissa held back a gasp as she realized who this boy was. There was no doubt that he was a Potter, he had the messy hair and the body of a young James Potter, though it was the eyes that confirmed it was his missing son.

The boy had his mother's eyes though his seemed to have specks of red and black that took her breath away at the implication that he had used a ritual to gain his eyesight.

Lucius had also realized who the boy was before him though did not let any emotion appear on his face. "Greetings young Mister Labeau. Welcome to my home."

The boy gave a half-bow before replying, "Thank you Lord Malfoy, as my mother said it is quite stunning, though you are far more stunning Lady Malfoy. I looked forward to staying here for the remainder of the week, before I attend Beauxbatons this upcoming term."

Hiding his surprise that they had planned on staying, Lucius spoke, "You must be excited to visit Hogwarts this upcoming year with the Triwizard Tournament happening."

"Yes, very excited," Harry said.

Circe cut him off before he could continue. "Yes, my love, we are both thrilled. Now Lord Malfoy I believe that I have a meeting with your Lord sometime this evening, correct?"

"Yes, he wishes for you to enjoy the ball before he summons you."

Circe narrowed her eyes at the obvious command though brushed it off as she moved into the crowds of dancers.

"Mister Labeau," Narcissa spoke. "My son Draco and some of his friends are near the refreshments if you would like me to introduce you?"

Harry shook his head, though smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Madam; however, I can seek out their company myself."

He bowed once more and pecked one last kiss on her tiny hand before heading over to the group of teenagers near the drinks.

They were all respectable Purebloods, of that he had no doubt. There were five of them. A boy with short blonde hair and a pointy face, that was no doubt the son of the couple that was housing him and his mother, stood next to a girl with short black hair and a pug-like face. Across from them was two rather large boys who seemed rather consumed with eating everything that was on the table in front of them and another boy with dark skin and slanted dark eyes.

"Hello," Harry greeted. The five teenagers before him all immediately silenced and turned to him. The boys instantly were cautious though the girl gave him a rather impressive look-over before smirking.

"Hello," she responded and held out her hand. "My name is Pansy Parkinson."

Harry bowed low and kissed her hand gently, slowly straightening as he kept eye contact with the witch before him. "It is a pleasure. My name is Hadrian Labeau"

The blonde boy's eyes narrowed more as he straightened. "Draco Malfoy. You are a guest of my parents and their Lord, correct?"

Harry smirked, his eyes flashing. "Yes I am, though I find it curious that you do not refer to the Dark Lord as yours."

Draco looked away and two red spots appeared on his pale cheeks. "He is not my Lord till I am marked and he does not mark those still in school."

Murmuring his understanding, Harry turned to the three other boys before him. "Hello. I am Hadrian Labeau and you are?"

The dark skinned boy stepped forward and held out a hand to be shaken. "Blaise Zabini. It is pleasure to meet the ward of the Seer."

Harry pulled his hand back and gave the boy a curious look. "The Seer?"

"Yes," Blaise said. "Circe Labeau is known throughout the world as the Seer. She determines the fate of all those who meet her. It is an honor that she sought out the Dark Allegiance before war consumes Britain."

Harry cocked his head to the side, but nodded. It was interesting to hear of his mother's reputation though he had never heard anyone call her the Seer. He would ask her about it once they reunited. "And you two?"

Draco answered him. "This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said though only two grunts responded.

Pansy leaned forward, exposing much of her bust as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you attend Hogwarts? I have never seen you there."

"Pansy did you not hear that he is Circe Labeau's son? She would have never allowed him to be placed under Dumbledore's control," Draco interrupted before Harry could speak.

Pansy rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored Draco, asking an endless amount of questions about Harry's life despite the interruptions of Blaise and Draco that always ended with a laugh.

"Are you excited for the Tournament?" Harry asked at one point as he sipped on a flute of champagne.

"What Tournament?" Draco asked back.

"Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. Didn't you receive any notice in your letter containing your booklist?"

Blaise suddenly grinned, "I knew something was going on! My mother has been hinting at it all summer. Wow it has been years since a Tournament has been held."

Pansy clapped her hands and nearly squealed as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "Oh Hadrian does that mean that you will be at Hogwarts this year? It would be amazing if you were!"

Draco got a rather disgruntled look on his face, but Harry found her amusing. Laughing he responded, "Yep! Though I don't know if Mother is nearly as excited as me. She seems to think that because I am her son that the Light Lord will cause me problems." He omitted the other reasons she might be less than enthusiastic.

"Well if you have a choice you are more than welcome to room with us. I am sure that Durmstrang will be welcomed in the Slytherin Commons," Blaise said.

Harry gave another barking laugh. "I am from Beauxbatons. Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me."

Eyes wide and obviously embarrassed at his assumption Blaise shook his head.

Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak when a house-elf appeared before Harry. It looked beaten and weak, making Harry's stomach turn sour as the pitiful creature gazed up at him with watery eyes.

"Master Hadrian is being summoned. Master Hadrian must go to Blue Foyer. Dobby takes Master Hadrian now."

Glancing around the room, Harry could not catch a glimpse of his Mother. Assuming she had summoned him to meet the Dark Lord Harry nodded to the house-elf that was shaking in fear of denial.

"Lead the way, elf," he commanded after saying a quick goodbye and making promises to keep in touch throughout the week.

Harry followed the elf through several hallways and watched as the guests slowly started to dissipate until there was no one left, but him and the elf. At last they stopped in front of a tall oak door.

Bowing so low that his nose brushed the floor, the elf snapped his fingers and the door creaked opened slowly. Walking into the room Harry realized that it was empty and turned to ask the elf where his mother was when the oak door shut with click. Moving forward the doorknob gave a spark of pain that raced up his arm when Harry tried to open it.

Suddenly the air got thick and heavy. The magic was so abundant that it made Harry's eye lids droop and his body shake.

"Hello Mister Potter."

* * *

A/N: Well another chapter done! Sorry it is not as long as the last one. Most of the chapters will vary in length although I typically prefer to give my readers longer chapters. Oh well! Like I said earlier I will try to have an update every Thursday and that's all that matters.

Thank you once more for reading! I hope you enjoyed it despite the fact that there was not nearly as much Voldemort in it than planned though the next chapter should have plenty of Dark Lord for everyone.

Also I hope you enjoyed my Harry. I wanted to make him a teenager and though I have him acting very mature with Circe I feel like he would be much more friendly with people his own age, especially if they don't interfere with his lessons! I just didn't want the typical cold angsty Harry that most stories portray although I promise that Harry will be in here, just not yet.

Lastly I loved hearing your opinions on Harry being a Light Lord, Dark Lord, Grey Lord ect. I think I have an idea on where I am going with it though I love reading what you guys think… so feel free to leave a comment about your preference or the chapter. I love reading them :)

REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

_"Another excellent chapter. I most admit I'm surprised that the Potters are alive. I had assumed that the Dursleys had put him in the orphanage. So is Harry the Boy-who-lived or is a sibling assumed to be it? do enjoy your Harry. He's mature but not too mature, if that makes since. He's grown up for his age but not to the point where it's either unbelievable or making him look like Tom Riddle's second coming. So reading Harry's interaction with the Slytherins, is that a bit of jealousy I detect from Draco? Its always amusing to me how in most stories Draco tries to act like hes the shit but in actuality hes nothing but a small fry, very low on the totem pole. So Circe is very powerful and well known. And apparently either very long lived or immortal if Lucius' great-grandfather knew her. So is Circe her real name or is she someone else, like IDK say, Morgana la fey? I can't wait for the next chapter and to see Harry's encounter with the Dark Lord…" – King of Hearts 129_

Summary: Raised in an orphanage, Harry is adopted and taught to become a powerful Lord of Magic. Through rituals, lessons, balls and battles he grows stronger each day. However, he did not expect that being sent to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament would change his life completely. LV/HP

AN: Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Also special thanks to **Kilyen** I will make sure to edit that to the proper translation. If anyone notices a mistake please feel free to let me know. I usually edit the crap out of each chapter, but I was a little behind with this one and did not.

**Chapter 3: The Dark Lord**

_Bowing so low that his nose brushed the floor, the elf snapped his fingers and the door creaked opened slowly. Walking into the room Harry realized that it was empty and turned to ask the elf where his mother was when the oak door shut with click. Moving forward the doorknob gave a spark of pain that raced up his arm when Harry tried to open it. _

_Suddenly the air got thick and heavy. The magic was so abundant that it made Harry's eye lids droop and his body shake. _

"_Hello Mister Potter."_

Stepping from the shadows that seemed to cling to him, Lord Voldemort looked very much like the Dark wizard that he was. His red eyes seemed to shine with his power. He wore a shadowy black robe that accented his pale skin and the golden locket around his neck with an engraved 's' that must have been a family heirloom, though Harry was most enamored with the man's magic. It sent shivers up and down his spine and caused his mouth to fill with saliva. Harry was drunk without drinking.

Stopping before the dazed boy, Voldemort took a moment to apprise the child that Circe had guaranteed was worth his time and energy.

He looked young and, though it was a rather unconventional handsome, he was beautiful with his bright green eyes, ivory skin and midnight hair. Voldemort ran a finger down the side of the boy's face and watched as his eyes almost shut and felt his body sway. Thick ebony lashes fluttered and his breathing was ragged. It was a delicious sight.

Moving away from the boy and pulling his magic back behind the barriers he'd built so long ago he watched as Potter's eyes cleared as well as his mind.

Jumping back Harry had not realized how close the Dark Lord was. He flushed as he recalled his behavior a moment ago, but gained his composure fairly quick. After several silent moments Harry looked into the eyes of Tom Riddle and saw his blazing eyes following his. Taking a deep breath and then gave a low bow. "Lord Voldemort," he said without a hint of emotion in his voice.

Tom grinned, showing gleaming perfect teeth. "It is very flattering to be called by my full title. Most people are too frightened to dare say my name, much less to my face. Are you not scared Mister Potter?"

_Yes I am utterly terrified. _"I apologize, Lord. You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Hadrian Labeau."

Laughing Voldemort responded, "You forget, child. Your… guardian has already spoken with me about sheltering you whilst the tournament occurs and even if I was not told, you look very much like your mudblood-loving father."

Harry stiffened, but chose to ignore the comment. "And will you enter into an alliance with me? At least for my time here in England?"

Voldemort's grin vanished instantly and his hand shot out, clenching around Harry's throat so strongly that it left the boy gasping. Thin, long fingers tightened as he started struggling and lifted him from the ground. "An alliance? Who do you think you are, child? Surely not a Lord. And surely not someone worthy of an _alliance_ with me," the Dark Lord snarled.

"My mother…" Harry gasped only to fall to his knees as Voldemort released him. Coughing and gasping for breath, he finally looked up.

Voldemort smirked, no doubt enjoying the picture Harry made on his knees before him. "You are still a child, Mister Potter. When you arrive at Hogwarts it will be without your guardian, so I must suggest you spend the next couple weeks _growing up._ For now you will be treated like you are just the son of a follower. Though I do find it rather interesting that your guardian is even allowing you to step foot into Hogwarts. You are far from ready to play in these political games."

"We had no choice they would have known if we left Beaubaxtons," said Harry.

Voldemort smirked. "Yes they would have though I am sure your guardian could have hidden you in a corner of this world until you were prepared. She is testing you."

"Why?" Harry tried to stand only to feel an invisible hand push on his shoulders and keep him kneeling. He glared up at the Dark Lord who stared down at him in amusement.

Lightly tapping a thin finger against the boy's nose, Voldemort grinned as Harry snarled and tried to stand once more. It was invigorating to have someone try to fight him; he had been in the political scenes far too long. Maybe it was time to go back to war. "Circe likely wants to see if you can handle the world without her; to which I say that you most certainly cannot. Or perhaps she wants to test your loyalties to her because I am sure that you will learn far more secrets and lies your _mother _has hidden from you once you are outside her influence."

Biting his lip, Harry spoke, "She has been preparing me to take my throne as a Lord. She cares for me and betters me. How dare accuse her of manipulating me!"

Baring his teeth at the child before him, Voldemort responded, "This is just further proof you are still nothing but a child. You cling to her and yet no nothing of her ideals and goals. You will be a follower forever if that does not change."

"I am going to be a Lord!"

"But you are not a Lord now. You are just a weak child hiding behind his _mother_," Voldemort sneered.

Feeling like his magic might burst from his skin, the hand holding him down vanished and for a moment there was nothing, but silence. Then Harry stood slowly, his magic flaring up around him and causing the flames in the fireplace to rise. Glancing at the Dark Lord, he noticed that Voldemort's eyes gleamed and his nose flared as if he could smell the magic surrounding Harry. It seemed like he enjoyed the display more than he was intimidated. It made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up on end to see him finding such pleasure in his display of magic. Pulling himself together, his magic calmed as quickly as it had appeared.

Leaning down to be at the same level as the child in front of him, Voldemort spoke, "Your magic is intoxicating. Tainted, from all those rituals Circe has likely put you through, but still so intoxicating."

"Tainted?"

Voldemort smirked. "Oh yes, child. Tainted. Circe must have just let it slip her mind that rituals are not used anymore because it can corrupt your magic, making it more difficult to perform certain spells, and lowers the spells ability to sustain."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "No that cannot be true."

"I am sure there are several books on magical theory at Hogwarts or Beaubaxtons. Look it up, child."

Looking into the ruby eyes of the Dark Lord, Harry had never felt more weak and stupid. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Voldemort did not respond, just merely blinked.

Harry bent his neck. "All anyone ever says about you is that you are powerful and dark and cruel. That you care for nothing, but your goals and plans. Plans that have you have in the works for decades that are only now being revealed. So why are you going to… protect me and why are you trying to help me?"

Thin, spider-like fingers brushed along his jaw before the Dark Lord gripped a handful of Harry's curly locks. Pulling the boy closer, Voldemort watched as Harry's eyes went wide and his jaw slacken in shock and pain. "There are many reasons for why I am doing what I am. One of them is because your guardian and I have been… friends for a long time and I love having her in my debt. Another is that I will enjoy watching Dumbledore realize that you are mine. Lastly you _are _mine. Even if you are undeclared right now your magic calls to me. You will declare for the Dark and while you may never be a Dark Lord I am sure there are other _positions_ that you can fill." And with a sultry look that left Harry trembling, the Dark Lord pushed him back causing him to fall onto a bad that seemed to appear behind him.

A bed.

Panicking Harry shot up and tried to get off the bed only to feel a press of a wand under his jaw. Gasping, Harry slowly tried to back away from the Dark Lord, but Voldemort just pressed the wand harder against the pastel skin.

"Harry Potter, or as you prefer, Hadrian Labeau, you are mine and I will enjoy watching you grow because there is nothing more pathetic than a child that should be an adult. Now sleep, Mr. Labeau. I assure you that we shall see each other at least once more before you leave for Beaubaxtons. Now _sleep_."

And with a wave of the Dark Lord's wand, Harry's vision went black.

* * *

It took two minutes for a knock to sound on the door after Lord Voldemort had lowered the wards. It was two sharp pangs against the oak doors. Standing from the chair that he had set up to watch the child that was sleeping in his bed, the Dark Lord took his time to get to the door.

After spelling the child into an enchanted slumber Voldemort had paced the room and thought about how the boy that had seduced him with his brief flare of magic. It was intoxicating and arousing. Too bad Hadrian Labeau was still such a child though, with some careful manipulating he would be an ideal consort for a Dark Lord.

It was odd that Circe pushed him to become a Lord. It was unlikely that he would ever become a Light Lord and there was no way that he could take the mantle from Lord Voldemort and become a Dark Lord. He was a Lord-level wizard, there was no doubt, after he came more into his powers it would only grow.

From the study came Nagini, an unusually large green cobra. "_I smell a man-child. Is he for me?"_

Voldemort gave a tiny chuckle and bent low to scoop her up. She slithered up his torso and rested her head on shoulder, gazing at the boy in her master's bed. Her forked tongue caressing his chin. "_No, pet. He is not for you. He is for me. Does he not smell divine?"_

Slithering down his body, Nagini approached the bed. Winding around the bed post, she glided to the dark haired boy whom her master had taken an interest in. "_Yes, master. He smells delicious._" Coiling around the child she let a content hiss as his body warmed hers.

She still lay curled around the boy when Voldemort lowered the wards and let Circe in.

She had not aged since the last time he had seen her. It had been nearly forty years and when he had been travelling the world, testing new and old magic for a way to gain mortality. They had met in a dark alley in Egypt and she had been just as alluring as she was now.

Circe had been in sheer white gown that trailed behind her like a veil trailed behind a bride. She was pale despite the heat that should have darkened her skin. Diamonds glittered around her neck and jeweled rubies shined in her fingers. She looked like a white queen among the poor and the depraved and they all gazed at her in lust.

Lord Voldemort had just gone through a transformation. It had left his skin waxy and thick, but it would give him the ability to withstand most common spells like the skin of a giant. After a few weeks he would be able to cast a charm to smooth it out and give him back his youthful appearance.

She had walked in a straight line to him; people diving out of her way as if fearing her touch. Stopping before him she had bowed low, her silver hair blazing in the sunlight. "Your magic has called to me, my Lord."

Pulling back his black hood the Dark Lord inclined his head. If she found him ugly she did not show it on her face. "Greetings. I am Thomas Riddle, though known as Lord Voldemort."

She smirked. "Circe Abaza."

Kissing her knuckles with his rough lips, Voldemort caught her eye. "It is a pleasure to meet a woman of your beauty."

Circe had stared unblinking, her mother of pearl eyes burning into his brown ones. "Why do you display your magic for all to feel? Do you not care that your enemies can search you out by chasing the trail of magic that follows you?"

Voldemort sneered. "And are you one of my enemies, Lady Abaza?"

Turning her back to him, she looked over shoulder. "Not unless you give me a reason to be. Now shall we dine in the estate that I am currently staying in?"

And for the remainder of his time in Egypt, Lord Voldemort stayed in her estate, ate her food, warmed her bed and learned some of her secrets.

He was pulled from his musings when she turned to face him after staring at her ward; whom was still curled up in his silver and green sheets and his pet Nagini.

"What have you done to him?" she asked calmly though her eyes promised vengeance.

Voldemort leaned forward, his own eyes sparkling cruelly. "Merely put him to sleep, my beauty."

"And set your pet snake upon him?"

"Has she bitten him?" he asked with a smirk.

Taking a step closer to the Dark Lord, Circe was nearly nose to nose with him. "No, Thomas she has not. Now why is he here? You were to meet him tomorrow with me."

"Obviously I did not want to meet him tomorrow with you."

Her wand suddenly appeared in her hand. "What have you been telling him, Thomas? He is not yours to play with."

Voldemort stepped around her and looked down at her ward. His curls lay around the pillow like a dark halo and his eye's fluttered from dreaming. "He is mine, Circe. Why else would you have brought him to me?"

"He needs your political protection-"

"No he does not," he cut her off. "He would have been fine far from England, but you have brought here and to me and I wonder why. The boy's magic is quite seductive so perhaps you wanted to seduce me. Or maybe you enjoy playing games with Dumbledore. Either way he is here now and he is mine."

Circe snapped her fingers and a house-elf with a glass of red wine appeared before her. Taking the glass, she sat upon a throne-like chair that appeared behind her. "Why I have brought him here is beside the point, Thomas."

"I think it has to do with everything."

Taking a sip of her wine, she licked her lips clean of the red stain the wine left. "Oh Thomas stop making yourself seem all important. You know very little of my motives and my son."

Sitting down in another throne-like chair, though his was much larger and to which she raised an eyebrow in mockery, Voldemort summoned a glass of wine without the aid of a house-elf. "I find it funny that you call him son."

"Why? That is what he is."

"No he is a toy, a pawn for you to manipulate."

Laughing, she set her glass down and leaned forward. "Why, Thomas, are you in love? I have never seen you care so much for anyone."

Voldemort's eyes darkened. "No, I do not care for the child. His magic though is entirely different. Do you not see how tainted it has become?"

Shrugging, she replied, "A sacrifice. What does it matter? He is still young enough that his magic will heal."

"If that is what you believe."

"I think I know a little more about magic than you, Thomas."

He did not reply to her with anything other than a smirk.

Not letting him see her annoyance, Circe leaned back and took a sip of her wine. "Shall we continue with our discussion from earlier, Thomas? Before you had to step out to see to your other guest." Obviously meaning her son.

"Very well," he inclined.

Taking the last sip of her wine in one big gulp, Circe dropped her wine glass to the floor though it vanished before ever reaching it. "And lastly, Thomas."

He raised a thin dark eyebrow. "Yes?"

"He is not yours. He is mine."

* * *

A/N: Sorry that this is an hour past Thursday! I was getting ready for a camping trip this weekend to the coast and let the time fly by. Also sorry for the shorter chapter! This one was surpsingly difficult to write. I did not want to betray the true essences of Harry and Voldemort from canon, nor my own character Circe. Hopefully you all don't hate my Harry! He will grow up I promise.

Also I am still getting input for Harry's declaration. Light Lord? Dark Lord? Grey Lord? No Lord? I enjoy all your comments and ideas though I think I have an idea of where this is going, but feel free to keep giving them! I think I may start up a poll.

Hope you enjoyed it! Till next Thursday :) REVIEW


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